Truth
by thefirstservant
Summary: Something's wrong with Astoria. Draco wants to know why. Guest-starring Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.


She was vibrant and beautiful.

Her skirts flew about her in vivid colours. A brush of midnight blue, a dash of the rosiest pink, and a hint of the sweetest beige passed by him, quickly yet serenely.

He could barely see evidence of the hidden corset.

His wife hated corsets.

There was a ring of pearls around her neck, and a gold band on her slim wrist. Her dancing shoes with glamorous heels sparkled and diamonds twinkled softly behind her ears.

His wife hated jewelry.

He watched her as she sat in front of her dressing table, adjusted her earrings and began putting on the lightest trace of make-up.

His wife hated make-up.

Draco sat on the edge of their bed as he waited for his wife to finish her preparations for the event of the season. They would be going over to the Notts' mansion for the Christmas ball.

He cleared his throat. "You know they're called 'glad rags,' don't you, love?"

Astoria Greengrass – no, _Malfoy_ – turned around. She smiled at her husband, a make-up brush in her hand. "Pardon, Draco?"

Draco stood up and walked over to his wife's side, placing his hands on her shoulders, even as a pang echoed through his heart. He was always just "Draco" now. The tall mirror before them was mounted high enough to see both of them easily. He in his crisp suit and her in her colorful dress.

He looked at the reflection and met his wife's eyes. "They're called 'glad rags,'" he repeated gently. "You know, fancy clothes. Dress robes. They're called 'glad rags.'"

He lifted the brush out of his wife's hand and set it down on the table. "They're supposed to make you happy, darling."

Astoria paused, then frowned and took the brush back. She turned her attention back on her make-up.

"I _am_ happy, Draco. Really, I am."

Astoria rarely lied.

This was one of the few times.

…

Draco settled onto one of the loveseats in front of the fireplace. He glanced at the door and stifled a small sigh, one that probably couldn't be heard.

Blaise Zabini looked up from where he was nosing about Theodore Nott's papers. "Problem, Draco?"

Bloody Slytherins.

It was after dinner. They were in the Notts' study, where they had crept away to like schoolboys when the wives had begun chatting about gowns and hair things.

Theodore chuckled. "Married life not all it's cracked up to be, eh, Draco?"

Draco glared at his friends. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Theo," he ground out.

Theo rolled his eyes, "Sure you don't," he said, reaching over to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Honestly, Draco, what's the problem? You haven't been yourself all night."

Draco glared at him in response.

Theo ignored the glare. "It can't be problems with Astoria, can it? You've only just gotten home from your honeymoon less than a month ago. Even you can't make a mess of things that fast." His smile took the sting out of the words.

Blaise turned around. "Speaking of Astoria, where is she anyway? Isn't she going to join us?"

Draco burrowed himself into his seat glumly. That had been bothering him, too.

At these parties, it was considered almost traditional for the women and men to separate for a while, before the dancing began. The men would go out to have a drink in one of the other rooms while the women would chatter, gossip, and paid compliments to one another while maids fixed their hair and gowns.

None of the three of them enjoyed drinking very much so he, Theo, and Blaise often slipped away by themselves to spend time with one another before they were called to join the dancing.

And Astoria always joined them.

If they couldn't stand the drinking and other things that went on when the men got together, Astoria was worse. She despised the gossip and primping the women engaged in, and would always slip out to join "the boys" as she affectionally called the three friends.

But this time, Astoria had not appeared. When Draco had tilted his head towards the study, Astoria had smiled but shook her head, before turning around to comment on Pansy's new shoes.

Blaise was watching him carefully. "She's not coming, is she?" he said, a little too perceptively. When Draco shook his head, Blaise crossed the room to sit beside him.

"All right, Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco looked at his friends. Blaise was his best mate, the closest friend he ever had. He had gotten to know Astoria before Draco had. In all honesty, he was surprised that Blaise hadn't begun hovering earlier.

And Theodore was his brother-in-law, married to Astoria's sister, Daphne. He had been married for almost three years already. He understood wives and women more than Draco ever could.

But his marriage to Astoria was private, personal. He couldn't say anything.

Blaise and Theodore were both watching him.

He told them everything.

…

"She was wearing a corset," Draco said miserably. "She hates corsets. She always says that they're like straitjackets."

"I did notice that she looked a little different today," Theodore said thoughtfully. "When has she started acting that way?"

"Maybe a week or two ago," Draco replied, rubbing his forehead. "What do you think is wrong?"

Blaise was staring into the blazing fire. "Sounds to me like she's acting like the quintessential pure-blood woman."

Draco stared at him. "But she's _Astoria_. She hates things like that. And she's from a good pure-blood family. Why would she suddenly act like this now?"

"Well, she's married to you now, isn't she?" Blaise shrugged, his fingers tapping against his knee as he thought. "My guess is that she feels pressured by all the expectations people have for her. She's a Malfoy wife now, after all."

'Maybe," Draco held his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. "But I've always made it clear to her that I never expected her to be like my mother or my grandmother. I love her the way she is. She's _Astoria._ She's…she's brilliant."

There was silence for a while as Draco studiously controlled his blush. Some voices could be heard through the closed study door. Music was coming from the ballroom, a few rooms away. Theodore grimaced.

"I have to go and play host now, I expect," he said, getting up quickly. "Stay as long as you want though, the two of you." He looked sympathetically at Draco. "And it'll be all right, mate. Do you want me to talk to Daphne about it?"

Draco shook his head. "No, it's all right. I'll figure it out. Thank you, Theo."

Theodore leaned over to squeeze his friend's shoulder before leaving the room swiftly.

Draco sighed and turned to Blaise. "We better go back. Thank you, too, Blaise."

"It's no problem," Blaise shrugged again, standing up and heading out of the room. "And, Draco?"

He looked up at him. Blaise held his gaze seriously. "You _will_ figure it out. Don't worry about that. Astoria loves you, too."

"I know," Draco nodded. "I love her, too. I love her very much, Blaise."

Blaise nodded. Halfway out the door, he turned back.

"The glad rags shouldn't be the ones making her happy though. You know they never have."

Blaise gave him a small smile.

"But you always have."

…

"Are you tired, dear?" Draco watched as Astoria looked out the window. He had rented a carriage for them to ride on the way home as a surprise. Astoria loved carriages.

Astoria turned around, smiling brilliantly. Draco smiled back. His wife had been a little happier when they had met up after he had left the study. They had danced the night away, and everything would have been just like their honeymoon if only Astoria had worn another of her simple dresses and shoes and had no make-up on.

"I'm fine, dearest." Astoria laid her head on Draco's shoulder for a moment, before rising up again to look up at him. "But I do have something I need to talk to you about."

Draco's heart was still doing a victory dance. Astoria hadn't called him "dearest" or any of their pet names for each other the past two weeks.

"Oh?" he managed. "What's it about?" He circled an arm around her waist and drew her closer to him.

Astoria's eyes were merry, in true Astoria fashion. She leaned forward, as if she were about to confide a secret to him, as she used to do whenever they hid underneath their favourite tree back in Hogwarts. "I'm afraid I've been eavesdropping again, dear."

He looked at her, a little surprised. That wasn't much of a secret. Astoria often eavesdropped, something she said was her calling as a Slytherin.

"Really now?" he said, playing along. "Whose conversation were you listening to? Was Pansy saying something about Blaise again?"

Astoria shook her head. "No, but I did learn that Blaise is a very smart man." She was smiling at him again. "And he understands women very well."

Draco paused. His heart started to hammer within him. Astoria's eyes were twinkling at him and her hand was on his arm. It was impossible to misunderstand her.

"Blaise was right then?" he looked at her soberly. "You feel…pressured?"

Astoria's smile faltered but her grip on his arm tightened as she squeezed gently. "Yes, he was right. It isn't your fault though. My mother spoke to me a few weeks ago. She told me that as a wife, I must not act as I once did. She said that I must not shame the Malfoy name. That…that I shouldn't shame you."

Draco frowned. Hard. "But you never shame me," he protested. "I love you the way you are, Astoria."

Astoria's smile came back, as brilliant as ever. "I know," she slipped her hand into his. "I heard. And I love you, too. I love you very much."

…

When they got home, Astoria slipped upstairs quickly. As he walked up the stairs, Astoria met him at the top of the staircase. She was smiling brilliantly.

She had managed to change in those few minutes. He stopped on the landing, his attention completely caught. The view was breathtaking.

She had taken off her make-up and had removed all her jewelry. She had exchanged the fancy dress and corset for a simple dress, the lovely red one that he had admired during their courtship. Her shoes were a pretty pair of slippers, with not a single diamond on them.

Her hair was let down to her waist, a long twist of thick brown hair that was so against the latest fashion. There was no pearl necklace around her neck; in its place was the simple heart pendant that Draco had given her when she had turned sixteen.

Everything was so natural, naturally stunning, naturally _Astoria_.

As he stepped in front of her, she approached him, smiling happily.

She stood a step away from him and said, "Hello, dear. I know I've been away for a while. Did you miss me?"

There was that laugh in her voice, her very own wit, the brilliance that he loved.

_She was vibrant and beautiful._

He took her slim hand and pulling her close, answered her seriously, "Very, very much. But are you sure you're happy, dear?"

She looked up at him again and said softly, demurely, "Glad rags don't make me happy. They never have. You, on the other hand, bring me the greatest joy. You always have."

She looked at him, her eyes meeting his.

"I _am_ happy, Draco. Really, I am."

Astoria rarely lied.

This time, she spoke the truth.

* * *

A/N: This was written for Fanfiction Tournaments (September, Semifinals) over at HPFC. :) This was also inspired by the Pairing Diversity Boot Camp, with the prompt "glad rags."

I hope you all enjoyed this, and see you again soon!

**Thoughts of the Day**: We all have different ideas of what Astoria Greengrass is like. What's Astoria like for you? :)

Also, I firmly believe Blaise and Draco were good friends. What do you think? :)

I'd love to hear what you think! :)


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